Every Time A Bell Rings
by BrainySmurf6
Summary: A Christmas story.  It's A Wonderful Life meets a post 6x09 Bones world.  "He smiled at Brennan and continued, "You think it wouldn't matter to anyone if you didn't exist…that their lives would be no different.  So we're going to see if you're correct."
1. River

Every Time A Bell Rings

_A Christmas Story_

_A/N: Okay, guys. I knew I wanted to do a Christmas fic this year, and after the heartbreaking madness that was 6x09, I NEEDED to do something dealing with the aftermath of that. So here is my short, multichapter offering of both. Not too much needs explaining. I'm really excited about this one. It'll be six chapters (most of which are written, no worries), updated daily between now and Christmas…with the proper motivation of course (shameless plug is shameless)._

_If you want to head over to youtube and listen to "River" (either Joni Mitchell or Sarah McLachlan's versions are beautiful) while reading this…well, it wouldn't hurt. _

Chapter One

_River_

_It's coming on Christmas  
They're cutting down trees  
They're putting up reindeer  
And singing songs of joy and peace  
Oh I wish I had a river  
I could skate away on_

"_Faithful friends who are dear to us, gather near to us once mo-"_

Temperance Brennan closed the door of her office, succeeding in muffling the distant Christmas carols drifting from the Jeffersonian lounge above her office.

Returning to her desk, Brennan once again began to focus on the paperwork in front of her, a welcome distraction.

The team was holding their own little Christmas gathering upstairs. Hodgins, Angela, Cam, Michelle, Sweets, and all the interns were there, drinking spiked eggnog, eating Angela's Christmas cookies and participating in some tradition Brennan didn't understand called Dirty Santa (though there had been a long and heated debated on the proper term. Frankly, none of the other names, such as White Elephant or Yankee Swap, sounded any more appealing).

Brennan, though, had never had any intention of joining them. Her attendance would be too counterproductive to her current objective: ignore Christmas altogether.

After a few minutes of silence, there was a knock on Brennan's door. She looked up to see Angela smiling at her. There was an elf hat perched on the artist's head, and someone had apparently stuck a large red bow on her pregnant stomach.

Following Brennan's gaze to the bow, Angela rolled her eyes. "Hodgins is at the point where he thinks this is the most hilarious joke anyone's ever made. I should never have given him a pass on the sober solidarity."

Brennan forced a laugh. "Are you two leaving soon?"

"No rush," Angela replied, her eyes softening as she looked at her best friend. "Please come up for awhile, Sweetie. This thing isn't nearly as much when I'm not drinking, and I want to see you before we leave."

"You're seeing me now."

"You know what I mean. I want to hang out."

Avoiding her gaze, Brennan addressed the files in front of her. "I really can't, Ange. I've got all this to do…" She swallowed, then tentatively asked, hating herself for it, "Booth never showed up did he?"

There was a pause, and when Angela replied the warm sympathy threaded through her voice made Brennan's chest tighten. "No, he didn't, Bren. Sorry."

Shaking her head, Brennan stated firmly, "Oh, I knew he and Hannah were probably going to be gone by now. I was just confirming."

"Right," Angela said softly.

Brennan continued to pretend to be absorbed in the file in front of her, until Angela's hand appeared in her view, setting down a green napkin wrapped around two Christmas cookies.

For some reason, staring at the cookies, a Christmas tree covered in green sprinkles and a bell shaped one with red icing making a bough, brought an unexpected lump to Brennan's throat.

"Just thought you might want to try some," Angela said, turning to go. "You'll come up if you change your mind?"

Brennan smiled clumsily at her best friend. "I will. Thanks, Angela."

Angela smiled at her from the doorway. "You leaving for Russ' tomorrow?"

For a second, Brennan blinked at her, uncomprehending. "What? Oh…" Again, she found her smile. "Yes, tomorrow."

"Cool. I'll stop by before I leave, okay?"

And then Angela was gone.

Brennan glanced down at the cookies on her desk, the lie she'd just told doing little to assuage the tightness in her throat.

She'd told Angela weeks ago that Russ was hosting Christmas at his own house, and when Angela had understandably assumed Brennan would be attending, she hadn't bothered to correct her.

It was Brennan's own fault really. Max had called her just after Thanksgiving, explaining that Russ, guilty over missing last year, wanted to host Christmas for both his side of the family and Amy's.

Brennan had been seconds away from accepting when her father had casually mentioned, "I told him I'd go up a few days early…you and Booth are welcome to stay, too."

It was this, the casual, dizzying assumption that Booth would be joining her, that _of course_ they'd be spending Christmas together this year (as they had every holiday for so many years), that caught Brennan off guard.

That phone call had happened barely a week after her confrontation with Booth in his car, and Brennan still hadn't shaken the fragile, overly emotional state the conversation had left her in. At least, that was the only explanation she could imagine for the fact that her father's innocent comment had left her precariously near tears, so much so that she'd blurted out a ridiculous lie about doing their own dinner at her place again, so Parker could join, and hanging up after the refusal.

Truthfully, Brennan was hoping for more insistence, but Max had been disappointed but understanding. Now, she could only dimly remember the rationale behind her refusal to join her family; something about explaining Booth's absence had seemed unbearable.

And so, two days before Christmas, she found herself with no plan other than to spend the holiday alone.

As the party upstairs dwindled down, the others drifted by the say their goodbyes and wish her a merry Christmas.

First Cam and Michelle, who were going to visit Cam's father in New York. Then Sweets and Daisy, spending Christmas in a cabin in Vermont. And finally, Angela and Hodgins, who were flying to Texas the following morning to see Angela's father and tell him about the baby in person.

Then, the lab was empty.

Brennan shook her head slightly, trying to focus on her work.

She reminded herself, firmly, that she'd spent Christmas alone for years. She didn't subscribe to the Christ myth, and even if she did, December 25 was not the correct date of Jesus' birth.

The day had no meaning other than that people assigned to it. It didn't matter.

Still, her father's words were repeating incessantly in her head.

_Being alone at Christmas means nobody loves you._

It was her own fault, of course. She could have been with her father and brother. She'd had the option; they hadn't shunned her.

Still, if Brennan was being honest with herself (and for the past month, she'd been really trying to be), what hurt the most was the wrapped gift in the bottom drawer of her desk, the one she wouldn't be giving to Booth.

They'd wrapped a case yesterday, and Brennan had waited for him to mention to the Jeffersonian gathering, or any sort of reference to the holiday. But they were careful with each other, as they had been for the past month: an awkward, overly polite partnership that barely resembled the close bond they'd had a year ago. Booth had only once made an offhand remark about his holiday plans with Hannah (taking Parker with them to visit her parents) and had gone immediately red, backtracking and talking about the case.

Only when he'd dropped her off at the lab, Brennan halfway out of the car, did Booth say. "Oh, Bones? Merry Christmas. In case I don't see you."

Her heart had sunk, the reality crushing that, yes, Booth would be entirely uninvolved in her holidays this year. So she forced a smile and managed an unsteady "You, too." before hurrying inside.

_Being alone at Christmas means nobody loves you._

There wasn't enough data to fully support that statement. All Brennan could say wih certainty was that _Booth_ did not.

Opening the desk drawer, Brennan pulled the present out, absently twirling her fingers around the ribbon spiraling from the red bow in the center. She had been pleased with herself in finding the present, and very much wanted Booth to have it…maybe she could save it for his birthday, when reciprocity wouldn't be a social obligation.

Or maybe she should just forget it. It didn't top her phone idea, and she'd given that one to Hannah without thinking.

Returning the gift to its place in the drawer, out of sight, Brennan returned to her work, staying in the office for the next few hours, until it was well after midnight.

"Knock, knock."

The voice, piercing through the hours of silence, startled Brennan. Looking over at the speaker, though, she smiled. "Hello, Micah."

"Evening, doc. Looks festive out there."

"Yes, there was a party tonight."

"Sounds fun," Micah commented. "Just came to tell you, you should probably head out. That snow's starting to turn to freezing rain…could get pretty ugly out there."

Brennan shrugged. "If the roads get terrible I'll just stay here."

"No way," Micah tossed her coat over, shaking his head. "And get stuck here on Christmas Eve alone?"

"You're here," Brennan reminded him.

Micah grinned, hanging Brennan her bag. "I'm nobody, doc. You gotta have better options than me for Christmas."

So Brennan smiled tightly, accepted her bag, and left the office, allowing Micah to believe that was true.

~(B*B)~

"_Last Christmas, I gave you my heart. The very next day, you gave it away-"_

Brennan finally reached out and turned off the radio. The Christmas music on every station was grating on her nerves, and the increasingly heavy sleet was doing enough of that.

A light changed, and when Brennan braked too quickly, the car continued skidding, momentarily uncontrolled, and she came to a stop almost directly under the light.

For a moment, Brennan's heart thudded in her chest, adrenaline buzzing through her body.

She thought unexpectedly of Dr. Lauren Eames, putting herself in dangerous situations just to feel something.

The heart surgeon probably spent Christmases alone, too.

The light switched back to green, but Brennan just sat, frozen, under the light, gripping the wheel to stop her hands from shaking.

Suddenly the sharp, piercing sound of a car horn sounded from behind her, and Brennan snapped out of it, hurriedly pressing her foot on the gas and driving forward.

She could feel tears gathering in her eyes; unfortunately, that wasn't an uncommon occurrence lately.

The Eames case had forced Brennan to admit to herself so much of what she'd been trying to repress.

Like how much she missed Booth. And how hard it was to see him with Hannah. And how lonely she felt, all the time.

Once she'd admitted it, given into the emotion, it was impossible to distance herself from it again.

Then, suddenly, her car skidded on a patch of ice.

Startled out of distraction, Brennan spun the steering wheel in a panic; for a second, the car didn't respond, the tires turning uselessly on top of the icy road.

Then the car began to spin off the road.

~(B*B)~

Brennan opened her eyes, her breathing harsh.

There were shards of glass in her lap, from the windshield and the window beside her. The front of her car was scrunched against a tree on the side of the road.

Slowly, Brennan began to take survey of her body, checking for pain or paralysis. She could feel something wet and sticky rolling thickly down her left cheek, but other than that, everything seemed okay.

Brennan grabbed her cell phone and groaned; no signal. She gripped the handle of the car door and, with difficulty, slammed her shoulder against the door until it opened and she could crawl out.

Tugging her coat tight around herself, Brennan swiped a sleeve across the cut on her face. The freezing rain stung against her skin, and Brennan ducked her head to shield her face, staring down at her cell phone as she paced, waiting for a signal.

For five minutes, she waited. Not one car passed by, and the freezing rain only intensified.

Brennan sucked in a breath, and a crooked noise suspiciously like a sob rose out of her. She was soaked, freezing, and alone.

Kind of fitting for this Christmas.

She cast a glance at her car, a mangled heap against the tree. Booth would say something ridiculous, about how it was a Christmas miracle that she'd gotten out with only a scratch.

But right now, all Brennan could think was, _What's the point?_

Her makeshift family, the one she'd been so surprised to find herself in over the past five years, had split off and were forming their own families.

And once again, she was alone.

To them, Brennan didn't matter anymore. Like Lauren Eames, there no one to miss her, not _really_ miss her anyway. No one who's life would be much worse off if she didn't even exist.

"Oh, now you shouldn't think things like that."

Brennan whipped around. The voice belonged to an elderly man, standing about ten feet away from her, dressed in a trench coat and a black hat. He was smiling at her.

"You'll make my job much more difficult thinking things like that."

Brennan squinted at him; it was hard to make out distinct features in the darkness, especially with the rain thick around them. "I…I'm sorry, do I know you?"

He chuckled. "I shouldn't think so, Dr. Brennan, but I know you. I know all about you. I watched you grow up."

Backing a few steps away, Brennan tensed. "How do you know my name?" She shook her head suddenly. She was a prominent public figure; lots of people read her books, and in DC many were even familiar with her and Booth, thanks to their high profile cases.

This man was unbalanced, and strange, but it wasn't impossible that he would recognize her.

Brennan's eyes darted to her car, trying to access the damage, and the best route to get to the gun she kept hidden in the glove compartment.

In spite of his strangeness, though, the man didn't seem to mean any harm. Brennan glanced around, trying to find his vehicle, but there didn't seem to be another car in sight. Homeless? No, he was dressed too well for that.

She sighed, reminding herself that she was stranded. "Do you have a cell phone, by any chance?"

The man frowned, confused. "A what?"

Brennan turned away from him, annoyed. She glanced back at the road, trying to determine how long it would take to walk back to the Jeffersonian.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," the man stated calmly, as though they were in the middle of a conversation. "It's a good four miles back, and the temperature's dropping. Walking won't end well."

Again, Brennan whipped around to stare at him, her eyes wide. "Are you…?" She stopped herself, immediately. She'd obviously spoken aloud without realizing it.

"Now back to what we were discussing," the man continued, approaching her. "It's a ridiculous notion, you not existing. What about Angela and Hodgins? Sweets, Cam? And, obviously, Booth would-"

"Who are you?" Brennan demanded, her stomach twisting. "What do you _want_?"

The man smiled, and stated with great formality, "I'm Albert, AS-2." He placed a hand on her arm. "And what I want-"

The second he touched her, Brennan seized his arm ready to flip him away. But after only a second, her fist closed, and she found herself holding onto nothing, an empty space where the man had been.

"What I want," his voice continued calmly, now on the other side of Brennan, several feet away. "Is to help you realize that you matter. You've been forgetting lately."

Brennan turned slowly, unable to understand how he'd moved away. Real fear began to trickle through her, and she stared at him and repeated, "Who are you?"

"I told you. Albert. AS-2. Angel, second class."

For a moment, Brennan could only stare. "Angel?"

"Yes. _Your _guardian angel, if you want to get technical."

Brennan laughed once, harshly. Of course this was how her Christmas Eve would begin; conversing with a crazy man in the rain after a car accident. "There's no such thing as angels. They don't exist."

"That's a bit insulting," Albert told her. "But I didn't expect any less from you."

She began walking toward her car, thinking it would be better to wait in the wreckage, out of the rain, until this man lost interest.

Predictably, Albert followed her, grabbing her arm again. "Wait just a second."

Brennan whirled, her eyes blazing. "Let _go_ of me."

He did, holding up his hands in surrender. "Don't worry, doc. I wouldn't dare try to hurt ya. All that martial arts training of yours, you'd have no trouble with a 287 year old geezer like me."

"You aren't 287," she spat through gritted teeth. "The oldest verified living person today is 114."

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm living," Albert conceded.

"Right. You're an angel," Brennan replied. "Though they don't exist."

"If I'm not, then how come I knew what you were thinking earlier?" Albert asked challengingly.

Brennan paused, swallowing back her own unease. Choosing her words carefully, she said, "My partner…he often gives the impression of knowing what someone's thinking, including me. He's just very adept at reading people."

"Ah, yeah, Booth is good at that. Especially with you."

The second mention of Booth's name from this stranger made Brennan's chest constrict. "Please just leave me alone…" She turned and continued down the slope to her car.

"Can't do that. Not when you're entertaining ridiculous notions about it not mattering if you didn't exist."

"That…that isn't any of your business," Brennan stated flatly, continuing walking. "And, frankly, it's starting to feel very true…"

"Fine." Albert snapped his fingers. "It's done."

In spite of herself, Brennan stopped walking and turned. With a sigh, she asked, "What's done?"

"What you said. You don't exist. You were never born."

"Ridiculous," Brennan muttered, reaching into her pocket for her phone, for another fruitless attempt at calling.

She froze; her pocket was empty. She checked the other. "Shit…" She'd dropped her phone somewhere on the road.

Albert was watching her with an amused look on his face. "People who don't exist don't have, um, cell phones, or whatever you called it. They don't have wallets or ID either. Or car keys, or cars…"

Brennan blinked at him for a moment, then turned to her car.

Which was gone.

Brennan closed her eyes, then opened them, not trusting her own vision. It wasn't possible, she'd been standing here the whole time…

"One good thing about it…your cheek's stopped bleeding."

Automatically, Brennan touched her fingers to her face. Not only was the sticky, smeared blood gone, but she could feel no evidence of a cut.

"No, that's…." she stared, wide eyed, at Albert. "That isn't possible."

"Kinda like angels, huh?" Albert teased.

"No, it's…there was a car accident. There's elevated levels of adrenaline, it's affecting my cognitive processes, there…" A strange, manic laugh escaped her. "My car was _there_. It…it doesn't make sense."

"You never saw anything that didn't seem to make sense, doc?"

Instantly, Brennan thought of the photo of Lauren Eames, that had looked exactly like her. Or her voice on the tapes.

"That's what I thought," Albert continued gently. "You think it wouldn't matter to anyone if you didn't exist…that their lives would be no different. So we're going to see if you're correct. We'll call it an experiment, if that makes you feel better about the whole thing."

For a long moment, Brennan considered what he was saying. Then, she caught herself, and anger surged. "You..you've…drugged me or…or something, that's the only explanation."

Sighing, his voice infinitely patient, "Then how do I know your name? Or your friends'?"

"It wouldn't take much research, we're very prominent-"

"Then how do I know about the gift you got Booth? The one you left in the drawer of your desk? It was sweet that you remembered the story."

"Wh-what-"

"Jared losing the record collection…"

"Stop it…" she cried out, a note of hysteria inching into her voice.

"The way Pops always played it for them when they were kids…"

"How are you doing this?"

"It's not the kind of music Booth usually listens to, but he always remembered that song. And you found the original, not even rereleased-"

"How do you _know_ that?" Brennan yelled, panicked. She was slowly losing her last tenuous grasp on control. Her wallet, her keys, her phone…of all of it was gone, inside a car that wasn't there anymore.

"I also know what happened between you and Booth last month," Albert said, his tone gentle. "That was very brave of you to do, Dr. Brennan. I'm sorry, I know it must've hurt, what he said…"

Hot tears were rolling down her cheeks, a sharp contrast to the chilling rain. Choking back a sob, Brennan begged desperately, "Why are you doing this to me?"

"To show you that you're wrong," Albert said simply. "We're in a world where you don't exist, doc. Let's find out if everyone really is okay." He patted her arm, and this time Brennan didn't jerk away. "Why don't we start off by going to see Angela?"

~(B*B)~

_A/N: So there's chapter one, a little longer than the next few. Hope you're intrigued by the premise, and even if you aren't familiar with It's A Wonderful Life, you can enjoy._

_Reviews are the best motivation, guys. I'd love to hear from you! It'll make the next update super fast haha (second shameless plug is even more shameless)._


	2. Faithful Friends

_Author's Note: Whoa! Great response guys…I'm so thrilled you're liking the premise so far. Your reviews were awesome, and got me even more excited about posting the story. As a thank you for the great first response, I'm posting a little earlier than I intended (so keep up the awesome feedback…shameless hint)._

Chapter Two

_Faithful friends who are dear to us...  
_

It was mark of Brennan's utter confusion that she barely protested as she followed Albert to an apartment building in a somewhat dingy part of town.

There wasn't even a doorman at the building, and they walked right in, jingling the chain of Christmas bells hung on the door as they did.

Unexpectedly, Albert's eyes lit up. "Somebody made it," he commented happily.

"Made what?" Brennan asked distractedly, glad for the warmth of the stairwell they were now standing in. She raked her hands through her hair, which was wet and flecked with ice.

"Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings," he informed her with great authority. "I haven't earned mine, yet, as you can see..but if I help you, the big guy says I'll get them."

"Of course," Brennan muttered dully, too exhausted and confused to even bother fighting that ridiculous point. "Why are we here?"

"I told you, we're going to see Angela."

Brennan laughed once, humorlessly, eyeing the stripped, splintered wood of the stairs, and the flickering, naked light bulb hanging from the ceiling. "Angela and Hodgins don't live here."

Albert started up the stairs, throwing a glance at her over his shoulder. "I never said they did. I said _Angela_ did."

Brennan's brow furrowed, but she said nothing as Albert turned down a hallway and headed to an apartment door.

Pulling up short, Brennan again insisted, "Angela does _not_ live here."

Albert arched an eyebrow at her, then said simply, "She does in the world where you don't exist."

Before Brennan could question this, Albert was reaching out and opening the door.

In front of them was what looked like a one room apartment. Art supplies and stacked canvases took up most of the space, along with a mattress, laid out on the floor, and some combination kitchen appliances in the area where carpet turned to tile.

Angela was sitting on the floor in the center of the room, her sketchbook balanced on her knees. A small, artificial Christmas tree was lit up in the corner.

Though it was hard to tell at first glance, the way she was sitting, Angela definitely didn't appear to be pregnant.

"Angela?" Brennan pushed past Albert into the room, confused why Angela hadn't looked up at their entrance. "Ange, why are you _here_?"

Still Angela didn't lift her eyes from the sketchpad in front of her.

Frustrated, Brennan knelt next to Angela on the floor. "Angela, look at me."

"She can't hear you," Albert called from the doorway. "You don't exist, remember?"

"_Angela_!" Brennan yelled, ignoring him, even though she knew, rationally, that if Angela wasn't noticing her now, increasing volume wouldn't make much difference.

Brennan felt a hand on her back. Albert was looking down at her. "I tried to tell you."

"No, I…I'm her best friend, she isn't…" Brennan stared hard at Angela, unable to comprehend the undeniable fact that her best friend didn't seem to see her.

Brennan stood abruptly. "Why is she here? I…I don't understand."

"She didn't have you around to give her a job. Doing caricatures in the park didn't pay the bills for very long."

As if on cue, the apartment was suddenly plunged into darkness.

"Son of bitch…" Angela's frustrated voice cut through the blackness, and there was a sudden shuffling.

Albert grabbed Brennan's arm, pulling her after him as they followed Angela out the door and down the stairs.

When they caught up, Angela was pounding on the door of another apartment, and suddenly the door swung open to reveal a tall man, leering down at Angela.

The artist glared up at him. "Really, Joe? You shut off my power on Christmas Eve?"

He smirked. "Got your attention, didn't it?" Angela rolled her eyes, and Joe continued, "I need the rent, sweetheart. I let you slide last month. No more."

Sighing, Angela gave him a pleading look. "If you could just give me a couple more days…"

"It's already been a couple more days." Suddenly, Joe's face changed, something lustful flashing in his eyes. "Of course, you know…we could always arrange something." He twirled his fingers in her hair, and Angela tensed noticeably.

Eyes narrowing, Brennan took a step toward them, practically snarling. "Get your hands off her-"

Neither of them glanced at her, and Albert took hold of her arm, muttering, "Won't do any good…"

Angela scowled at her landlord, disgust evident in her expression. "Go to hell, Joey."

"Hey, it's not like we haven't before, right, gorgeous? And if you want to keep living here…"

Slowly, Angela closed her eyes, her face tightening. Then, barely audible, she said, "Fine."

Joey laughed. "Excellent."

Brennan hurried forward. "Ange, wait, you don't have to-"

The door slammed in her face as the two of them disappeared into the apartment.

Angrily, Brennan began to pound the door. "Angela!"

"She can't hear you," Albert, suddenly close, reminded her. "Come on, we should keep going…"

Shaking her head, Brennan rejected this information. "No, she…what about Hodgins? She, she _married _Hodgins and he's…he's got plenty of money."

"She and Hodgins never met," Albert explained softly.

"Yes, they did," Brennan insisted. "They….they're having a baby, they got married of course they _met_."

"Not in this world. They never worked together, so…" Albert paused, considering, then began muttering to himself. "Actually, that's not a bad next stop. Yes, that could be…it's harsh, but most everything is…"

Still distracted, Brennan muttered, "What's harsh?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I think we should go see Hodgins now." Brennan was still staring at the closed door after Angela. Albert gently tugged on her arm. "C'mon, let's go…"

~(B*B)~

They stepped outside the apartment and were suddenly across the street from a cemetery Brennan frowned. "I didn't notice this before." She cast a glance back at the apartment, only to find the door she'd just emerged from, and the entire apartment building gone. "What…?"

"I thought we should cut down on our travel time," Albert answered absently. "Let's go."

Brennan didn't move. "Where are we going?"

Albert turned, nodding his hat across the street to the cemetery. "Over there."

She was already shaking her head, still not making a move to follow him. "You, you said we were going to see Hodgins."

Giving her a sympathetic look, Albert continued slowly across the road. "Just follow me, doc."

Trepidation rising, Brennan followed Albert across the road and into the cemetery. The freezing rain from earlier had stopped, a light, sporadic snow falling in its place.

Brennan shoved her hands in her pockets and stayed quiet as they walked through the still, silent graveyard. After awhile, Albert moved off the main path, heading toward a grave, the icy grass crunching under his feet.

They stopped soon, and Brennan set her jaw, meeting the old man's eyes. "I don't understand why we're here."

"I told you," he said softly. "We're here to see Dr. Hodgins." Then, Albert nodded at the headstone in front of them.

"Jack Stanley Hodgins" was engraved on the stone, and for a second Brennan felt her knees buckle beneath her. She shuffled a few steps back, eyes fixed on the grave.

"No. No. Wha…what is this, did you…" The pitch of her voice heightened, and Brennan wrapped her arms around herself, trembling. She pinned Albert with an accusatory glare. "…did you have this made?"

"No, Dr. Brennan-"

"I saw Hodgins _hours_ ago, tonight and this…this says he died over four years ago, it's…it's _wrong_."

"In this world," Albert explained patiently. "It isn't."

Brennan continued moving away from him, her hands out in front of her in a useless gesture of protection. "Who…who are you? Why are you doing this to me?"

His eyes bright with concern, Albert took a tentative step toward Brennan. Her eyes widened, and she stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over a different grave in her attempt to escape him.

"Don't…I don't know what you gave me or….or if I hit my head when the car crashed…but none of this makes sense, it isn't..it isn't possible…Hodgins is not _dead_."

Albert reached for her, but she was already moving, running out of the cemetery back into the street.

Breathing hard, Brennan paced around the road, raking her trembling hands through her hair, feeling for any indication of a head injury. She had no idea where she was, and she had no phone or money or car…

Still, she couldn't stay there.

Brennan had walked a good thirty feet down the street when suddenly Albert stepped in front of her.

"Get away from me," Brennan hissed, adopting a defensive stance in spite of the fact that she was shaking.

"I'm sorry I didn't warn you," Albert said quietly. "But in this world, where you don't exist….Hodgins was killed by the Gravedigger."

"No, that…your logic is flawed. If Hodgins wasn't working for me, he wouldn't have been working on the case."

"Actually, Hodgins _was_ mostly just a lab rat, but the FBI called him in to consult on occasional cases, like the Gravedigger one that had so much dirt related evidence." Albert paused, waiting until Brennan slowly relaxed her fighting stance, her face twisting as she did. "When the gravedigger ran him down, there was no one to save him."

Brennan's eyes stung, and she stared at the ground, thinking of Angela, alone in a dark apartment, and Hodgins, bleeding out in that car…

"I don't understand this," she said softly.

"I know," Albert said sympathetically. "We'll do an easier one now, okay? We can go see Cam."

_A/N: So this was a lot shorter, and the next two chapters are like that, too. As those of you familiar with the movie are aware, Brennan's non existence is a little different...it worked better for this narrative for Brennan to be able to observe people without them seeing her, as opposed to just not knowing who she is. Let's see the more personal stuff about their lives.  
_

_ Please let me know what you think! An update will be posted very soon. (Also, points for you if you get the musical reference).  
_


	3. As In Olden Days

_A/N: Thanks again for the reviews guys! I'm so glad you're enjoying what I'm doing with this, and hope you keep on telling me what you think (and keep getting rewarded with the quick updates_). Huge kudos to paperdoll39, the only one who caught the _Rent_ reference I couldn't resist last chapter (Angela's landlord shutting off her power on Christmas Eve). Anyway, not much to say about this one...it ended up being way more intense than I originally planned, and I love it for that. Hope you guys do, too.

Chapter Three

_Here we are as in olden days…_

They'd been walking for ten minutes down the deserted robe when Brennan said quietly, "I don't think I want to keep doing this."

Albert nodded, unsurprised. "Yeah, I could see you thinking that. That's why I'm giving you a little break while we walk."

Brennan blinked at him, confused. "I thought we were on our way to see Cam."

"Well, we are," Albert said matter-of-factly. "But you saw what I did last time. I could have us there now if needed…besides, Cam's in New York. We can hardly walk there."

Abruptly, Brennan stopped walking. "Cam's just…she's just in New York? Like she's supposed to be?"

Now it was Albert's turn to look surprised. "You knew that?"

"Yes, she…she was taking Michelle there for Christmas. To visit family."

"Oh," Albert nodded knowingly. "Forgot about that. Silly me. But, no, she's living in New York now. Actually…" He pulled out a pocket watch and squinted at it . "Yes, she's still working right now. We should hurry though, if you're ready."

Brennan sighed; she didn't feel even a little bit ready, but she felt herself nodding.

"Great. Right there." Albert pointed behind Brennan, and as she turned she saw, instead of a deserted street, the entrance to a morgue.

Albert brushed past her. "Let's go, doc."

Following him, Brennan shook her head slightly, losing count of all the impossibilities she'd witnessed that night.

Soon, they were walking down stairs to a basement, and then pushing through the door of a small, cramped morgue.

Cam was the only one inside, standing over one of the three corpses laid out on tables and making notes. She had headphones in her ears, and like Angela, she didn't look up at their entrance.

Brennan felt herself relax somewhat. This wasn't so bad. The morgue was tiny and ill equipped, yes, but the memory of Angela and, worse, Hodgins' grave was too fresh for this sight to be anything but a relief.

However, Albert shivered suddenly beside her. Arching an eyebrow at him, Brennan asked, "You okay?"

"Sure, you know…morgues. Death. Brings back bad memories."

"Right," Brennan muttered. "So, go ahead, explain why Cam works in New York."

"No forensics department at the Jeffersonian without you. So she was never transferred...worked for years."

Brennan frowned slightly, circling the room, still disconcerted by Cam's complete unawareness of their presence. "Granted, it's fairly inefficient and less than ideal compared to the Jeffersonian but…this doesn't seem so terrible."

"It's not," Albert agreed slyly. "She'll be having Christmas with her father and sisters tomorrow, after all. Though she does stay here pretty late most nights, having no one at home."

Brennan paused in her survey of the room, glancing from Cam to Albert. "What do you mean, no one at home? She has Michelle."

Albert made a face. "Well…"

"What?"

He shrugged apologetically. "She wasn't working the case, when Michelle's father died. She did hear about what happened of course, and she flew down for the funeral. Only saw Michelle once, and the girl was very angry-"

"No, she…that happened, but Cam went back. She kept going back-"

"Without the case, there was no reason to," Albert interrupted. "Besides…you weren't there to suggest she take Michelle in."

"Oh…." Brennan turned back to Cam, her voice trailing off. She'd forgotten that. "So…Michelle is…where?"

Albert pursed his lips, appearing to think. Finally, he said, "I guess we could go there, too. Yes, actually, that's probably smart considering…come with me."

Brennan followed obediently, trying not to think about the fact that she was starting to accept the strange, twisted logic of this night.

The two of them walked up the stairs and out the door of the morgue, only to once again face a completely different setting outside than had existed when they entered.

There was a house in front of them, small and dilapidated, with toys littering the yard. Albert nodded Brennan up the walk. "Come inside."

The lighting inside was dim, and the carpet was dirty. A woman sat in front of a blaring television in the living room, smoking. A few kids ran past Brennan and Albert as they walked inside, and the woman didn't look over at them.

Albert nudged Brennan forward. "Back there, the second door…"

Soon they were entering a tiny bedroom, with two twin beds. One was unoccupied, but on the other, Michelle was stretched out, reading a book.

Albert shut the door behind them as Brennan's eyes fell in the corner…clothes were spilling out of a dropped garbage bag. "This is her foster home?" Brennan whispered, though of course Michelle couldn't hear her.

Albert had barely nodded before there was a sudden pounding on the door. Michelle jumped, dropping her book and drawing her knees up against her chest, suddenly looking terrified. A deep, male voice shouted from the other side of the door. "Girl, what have I _told_ you about locking this door?"

Michelle's eyes were screwed tightly shut, her breathing suddenly shallow.

"Open the _fucking _door!" The voice repeated, and then there was several large thumps, until the door swung open on its own, and the a large man strode in, slamming it shut again behind him.

"I've told you about that," he snarled, approaching Michelle's bed.

"I'm sor-"

The girl never got the sentence out before the back of his hand connected with her cheek.

Brennan sprung forward instantly. Albert murmured a protest, a reminder that it was useless, but Brennan ignored him, seizing the man's arm and preparing to throw him off Michelle.

But her grip was useless, and the man moved as though completely unencumbered. He kept his gaze fixed on Michelle. "It's almost Christmas. And I know how I like to spend my holiday…."

"Please," Michelle whimpered, physically drawing away as much as she could as he leaned on her bed. "Please don't…."

He slapped her again, hard. "Don't ruin it." The man grabbed her arm with one hand, swinging himself up on the bed, cupping her between the legs as he pressed his body over her. "It'll all be over soon…"

Brennan felt like her chest was collapsing, her vision swimming in front of her eyes. Michelle was crying, and the man was undressing, and Brennan was drowning in her own memories…

_You're a pretty one…I think it's time you show your gratitude…_

_Make a sound and I'll kill you….you scream you ruin everything…._

_It'll all be over soon…_

"No, no, no, stop it, please don't, _stop_ it, don't…." Brennan wasn't aware whose voice she was hearing, her own or Michelle's, but then Albert was pulling her out of the bedroom, away from the whimpers, and suddenly she was standing on an empty street again, shivering violently.

Brennan slowly sank down, sitting on the side of the road, unable to hold herself up anymore. She swiped a hand across her face, surprised to find it soaked with tears.

"I'm sorry about that," Albert said quietly after a long moment, and his voice sounded unsettled. "You can take a second…"

"We have to go back to Cam," Brennan cut him off in a small, fragile voice that didn't sound like her own. "We have to tell her to take in Michelle, she….she'll do it, she loved her-"

"We can't do that," Albert told her gently.

"Why the hell not?" Brennan burst out. "Especially you, you claim to be this…this _angel, _a supernatural representative of a deity, yet you claim you can't help her? You want to just leave her there while he _breaks_ her, she's a_ child_-"

"I'm _your_ guardian angel," Albert said sadly, sinking down beside Brennan and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Not hers."

Brennan jerked away violently, anger pulsing through her veins. "Then where is _hers_, according to you? Who doesn't think _that_ is what merits being rescued from?" She paused her chest heaving, "And, actually, where were _you_ when…" Her voice cracked, and Brennan pressed her lips together, stopping herself.

"…when it was happening to you?" Albert asked.

Ducking forward, Brennan pressed the heel of her hands against her eyes, not answering.

"I know it isn't fair," Albert added eventually. "I know none of what happened to you was fair. Cal Harris was a bad man. And you didn't deserve what he did to you."

They sat in silence for a long time. Finally, Brennan broke the silence, begging in a small, unsteady voice, "Please tell me how you're doing this."

With a small smile, Albert told her, "I can't offer you any explanation that's going to satisfy you, doc. But you can't discount observation, and all I can hope is that you've observed enough tonight, so far, to understand. And to trust me." He paused. "Whenever you're ready there's more to see."

Slowly, Brennan nodded. "Can we just…sit for a few more minutes?"

"Of course."

Closing her eyes, Brennan cradled her head in her hands for a long time, waiting until that feeling of being stuck in her past gave way.

To the bizarre, unsettling present.

She was almost afraid to ask who was next. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she'd realized that, eventually, it was Booth they'd be seeing. And she had no idea what to expect.

But when, after a good twenty minutes of silence, Albert tentatively asked, "You think you're about ready to go?"

"I don't know," Brennan murmured honestly. "Where are we going now?"

"Well, that depends…" Albert once again pulled out his pocket watch and squinted at it. "Yes, I think we've got time to check on Dr. Sweets on our way."

Cutting her eyes at him warily, a ball of dread tightening in her stomach, she asked, "On our way where?"

Albert smiled slightly. "To your brother's."

_A/N: Thanks again for reading everyone! Three more to go...and we're getting super close to the big one (three guess as to who that revolves around). Keep up the great feedback! You guys are the best._


	4. Miles Away

_Authors Note: Pretty standard stuff, guys. Still so happy and appreciative of the feedback this fic is getting, so thank you so much for reviewing every chapter even when they're super frequent. I hope you keep enjoying it. Without futher ado…_

Chapter Four

_From now on our troubles with be miles away…_

They'd been walking for a good five minutes down a road that showed no sign of ending, and Brennan began to suspect Albert was merely giving her more time to calm down.

"Can we just….can we just get it over with?" Brennan asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the silence.

Albert didn't seem surprised by her outburst. He glanced back and nodded. "Of course." He slowed to a stop, and then slowly turned around.

Brennan did the same, and found herself staring at a familiar street. The Royal diner was in sight now, and Albert immediately began walking toward it.

"We've taken some liberties with time, you understand," Albert informed her casually as Brennan followed him toward the familiar diner. "We'll be looking in the diner about dinnertime…"

It was still dark outside, but Brennan just shrugged, unbothered by yet another illogical impossibility. She'd lost count of all the ones she'd witnessed that night.

Albert was soon standing outside the diner, peering in the window, but Brennan's pace was slower. Soon, though, she came up beside him and looked down at the old man, expectant and impatient.

Wordlessly, Albert pointed. Following with her eyes, Brennan glanced inside and saw Sweets, sitting alone at the bar of the diner, eating.

"Alright…" Brennan glanced from the young psychologist to Albert. "I don't understand. Sweets always eats at the diner."

"He does," Albert acknowledged. "But it's Christmas Eve. And these are the highlight of his holiday plans."

Folding her arms, Brennan kept her face impassive, though her gaze stayed trained on the young psychologist's back. She thought, briefly, of Angela and Hodgins. "Right, because…because he never met Daisy."

"It's more than that, doc," Albert murmured. "He's got no family…he moved here and works a lot, so not a lot of close friends, either. Sweets has no choice but to spend Christmas alone."

"Oh…" Brennan's chest tightened as she realized Sweets was in the position she herself was in this year….worse, because she _could_ have been with her father and brother.

"Don't underestimate the impact you've had on his life…you and Booth getting sent to him for therapy changed everything. He wasn't working as a profiler before you two let him join your team…however reluctantly. And for Sweets…the team became a surrogate family." Albert arched an eyebrow. "Much like it did for you."

Brennan tightened her jaw, still not moving her gaze from the window as Sweets paid his bill and walked out of the diner alone.

He walked right by them, and Brennan followed Sweets with her eyes, fighting the useless, unprecedented urge to reach out to him.

In spite of their vast academic differences…she and Sweets had more in common than she'd ever thought, namely their reliance on the makeshift family the team had formed.

The difference was, when Daisy returned from the Maluku islands….she didn't have some anthropology journalist in tow.

Brennan was still staring after Sweets when Albert gave her arm a gentle tug. "Sorry, doc, but we gotta keep going."

"Right," Brennan muttered, allowing herself to be led down the street.

~(B*B)~

Soon Brennan had followed Albert around the corner of the familiar street, only to find herself facing a complete unfamiliar one.

"Of course," she muttered, eyeing the buildings and wondering which was their current destination.

She got her answer almost immediately, as Albert led the way to the entrance of a motel.

"Wait a second."

Albert turned, expectant. "Problem, doc?"

"I….where are we?"

"Somewhere in Georgia, at the moment," Albert replied casually. "You coming?"

Brennan stared warily up the cheap motel, cliché enough that the T in its sign was no longer lit up. "I don't…you said we were going to Russ'. You're saying Russ is here?"

"Well, not at the moment…he'll be back in a second. But your father is."

At that, Brennan swung her head to look at him, real surprise on her face. "What?"

"You're surprised?"

"I thought…" Brennan flushed slightly, embarrassed even admitting a speculation that went along such an illogical premise. "I thought you were going to show me him in jail." When Albert just looked at her, expressionless, Brennan explained, "Because of my testimony, that's…that's why he got out."

"But remember," Albert began, quirking his lips in a small smile. "He only came back because of you." Before Brennan could process the implications of this, Albert's eyes lit up. "Oh, there's Russ, let's go…"

Glancing over, Brennan saw her brother, carrying something, walking up the stairs of the motel. She and Albert quickly followed.

When they got to the third floor, Russ pulled out a key and unlocked the door to one of the rooms; Brennan and Albert slipped in easily behind him, not noticed as always.

Though she'd been warned, it was still somewhat of a jolt to see her father sitting on one of the two double beds.

Max looked up at his son's entrance. "There you are, kiddo. Was starting to wonder."

Russ set two McDonald bags down on the bed and grumbled, "Picked up some Christmas dinner."

Digging into the bag, Max arched an eyebrow. "That took two hours?"

Russ flopped down on the bed, grabbing the remote. He seemed surly, though having no idea of the circumstances Brennan couldn't discern why. Voice gruff, Russ replied, "Sent some more stuff to Amy and the girls."

In contrast to his son, Max seemed perfectly carefree, unwrapping a Big Mac as Russ flipped listlessly through the channels on small television. "Didn't you already send the big Christmas delivery a few weeks back?"

"Yeah," Russ muttered.

Finally, Max seemed to get the message that his son didn't want to talk, and turned his full attention to the food.

Brennan watched them for awhile, her father and brother, existing in silence. "So…what? They're still on the run?" She sighed, frustrated. "Russ came _back_."

"Yes," Albert agreed patiently. "Because _you_ got a message to him. Through your father, who was only back because of you."

Brennan studied Russ for a long moment; her brother looked aged, hardened.

She started to comment that at least her father hadn't been arrested, but of course that was useless. After all, he hadn't been convicted. Brennan thought of his life now, the apartment, the job he loved…running from motel to motel, on the lam, couldn't compare.

"Are we done here?" Brennan asked abruptly, already turning her back on her family members.

Nodding, Albert turned as well. "Yes. But I want us to stop by Russ' old place…."

Brennan wordlessly followed Albert out the door of the motel room, and instead of stepping into the balcony style hallway of the place, they were suddenly just inside the front door of what Brennan recognized as the apartment where her brother lived with Amy and his stepdaughters.

Down the hall, Amy was standing in the doorway of a bedroom, obviously speaking to her daughters. "Now go to sleep. Santa'll be coming soon, and you don't want to be awake."

A voice floated through the doorway. "Okay. Night, Mom."

"Goodnight, sweetheart." Amy gently closed the door. Once it was closed, though, she lingered for a moment, closing her eyes and rubbing a hand over her face.

Then she moved to a closet down the hall. Albert nudged Brennan to follow her, and she got close enough to see Amy gathering up dozens of gifts, stacked in the closet, all marked "Emma". There was another pile next to it, with Hayley's name.

"The gifts Russ sent," Albert clarified in an undertone, as if Amy might hear them.

It took Amy two trips from the closet to the living room to set all of Emma's presents under the tree. However, instead of retrieving Hayley's, Amy merely closed the closet door, her face tightening as she did.

Brennan cut her eyes at Albert, who was watching the scene in front of them with a sad expression. "Why isn't she getting all the gifts?"

Instead of answering, Albert nodded at the mantel in the living room. Stepping closer so she could see, Brennan noticed there were only two stockings hanging there.

One with Amy's name. One with Emma's.

None for Hayley or, obviously, Russ.

Brennan turned her gaze, angry and accusatory, on Albert and lied quietly, "I don't know what this is."

"You sure?"

"Hayley's not...you're saying that _little girl, _she…she died?"

"Yes," Albert said quietly. "Over three years ago, when her cystic fibrosis was getting bad…"

Shaking her head, Brennan protested, "She got better."

"With the help of the doctor you got to see them." He shrugged a little. "And the fact that you got Russ came back to see her."

"That isn't medically relevant-"

"Even so…" Albert waved a hand at the scene before them.

Brennan closed her eyes for a long moment, but then they snapped open as she realized something. "But Russ…he sends gifts for both girls…"

"Right. He sends money, gifts, regularly…but Amy has no way of contacting him. Max insisted she never know where he was, and Russ didn't want them in danger, so…"

"…he has no idea," Brennan finished. "Oh, my God…"

She pushed past Albert, heading for the door.

"Dr. Brennan-"

"We can go right," she asked over her shoulder, not waiting for an answer before slamming through the door.

~(B*B)~

Albert caught up with her in the middle of the street. He was squinting again at his pocket watch. "Alright, it's time for one more-"

"No," Brennan cut him off fiercely. Her face was set, a muscle jumping in her clenched jaw, but her eyes were pools of pure fear.

Albert blinked at her. "No?"

"_No_. No more. I'm done with this, I…I want to go home." Brennan's voice broke at that last sentence, and she winced as she realized how childish it sounded.

His eyes softening, Albert placed a hand on her shoulder. "Why now?"

Brennan didn't answer.

His voice gentle, Albert pressed, "Temperance."

Closing her eyes, Brennan softly admitted, "I don't want to see Booth, alright?"

Silence fell for a moment, and to her intense embarrassment Brennan felt tears rising to her eyes, merely in anticipation of what might be coming.

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid, I just…" Brennan exhaled shakily, pressing her lips together. "There isn't any _point_. Booth would…without me, Booth would be fine. I know that. Unless, unless it's like Hodgins and he's…._dead_ because of the Gravedigger, or Epps' accomplice or something-"

"He isn't dead," Albert assured her quietly.

Brennan chanced a glance at him. "He's not?"

"Without you as a partner, Booth's case load was very different. Some were the same, by pure coincidence, but a lot of cases you worked went to someone else."

Something unclenched in Brennan's chest, and she nodded for longer than necessary. Then, stubbornly, she told him, "Then I'm still not going. There's no reason. He…he's probably fine."

"It's not like you to make definitive statements without all the evidence, doc," Albert told her with a small smile. "Trust me. I think you need to see this."

_Author's Note: So, as you can see, big chapter is next up (and one more big one after that). Feedback assures that it'll be posted quickly (don't you all love my completely obvious hints?). Hope you enjoyed this one, too. Let me know what you think!_


	5. If the Fates Allow

_Author's Note: Hey guys. So sorry for the delay...I got really busy with Christmas shopping and gift delivery yesterday, and then I ended up not having time to finish the chapter. Today's been crazy, too, but this chapter is longer than the others (not to mention the biggest one so far, obviously), so hopefully that makes up for things._

_Enjoy._

Chapter Five

_Through the years we all will be together  
If the fates allow…_

By the time they had made their way down another unfamiliar street (one that definitely wasn't the location of Booth's apartment), Albert was walking a good ten feet ahead of her and Brennan felt like her heart had twisted in her chest.

Albert eventually came to a stop in front of a small brick house Brennan had never seen before. Instead of joining him, she froze instantly, suddenly dizzy with panic.

Calm as ever, though, Albert sat down on the curb outside the house. "It's okay," he told her reassuringly. "We've got a few minutes."

Nodding hard, Brennan ran a hand over her face, trying to calm her nerves.

From his perch on the curb, Albert was peering at Brennan in concern. "Come sit, doc. It'll be good for you."

Brennan obeyed without thinking, thankful to relieve her legs of the suddenly difficult tasking of holding her up.

As she sank down beside him on the curb, Albert watched in concern as Brennan raked her hands through her hair, cradling her head in her hands. "It's okay to be scared," he told her softly. "I know you've had a rough time of it, tonight-"

"I'm fine," Brennan gritted out, thoroughly unconvinced. She closed her eyes, not daring to look at Albert.

He was right, though; she was terrified.

Except Brennan didn't know what scared her more: that she'd be forced to see Booth in some devastating situation, similar to the others she'd seen tonight.

Or that she wouldn't. That he would be fine without her, unaffected and unchanged.

Several quiet, agonizing minutes passed as they waited, though Brennan was afraid to even ask for any sort of forewarning and information.

Finally, though, an SUV pulled into the driveway of the house, and Albert was scrambling to his feet just as Booth stepped out of the car.

For a moment, her insides froze, and Brennan could only stare fixedly at her partner, walking swiftly up the walk to the house.

"C'mon," Albert called, beckoning her forward to follow Booth.

Clumsily, Brennan got to her feet, if only so she could move close enough to get a better look at Booth as he stepped under the golden glow of the porch light.

It only took one glance to realize that something was off. In the next moment, Brennan realized what it was.

Black tie, black socks; no cocky belt buckle.

No rebelling, no signs of a maverick. Standard government issue.

A strange burst of relief surged Brennan; she'd had that much impact, at least. It was such a small, inconsequential detail, but so defining at the same time.

She was only a few feet behind Booth on the porch, as he unlocked the door to the house and Albert waited beside him, when Brennan stopped dead, all relief falling away as she caught sight of another anomaly.

The gold wedding band on Booth's left hand.

Brennan's knees buckled, and Albert, alarmed, shot his hand out to grab her, steady her. Booth disappeared into the house, shutting the door behind him.

Her expression stricken, Brennan turned to Albert."I quit-"

Anxiously, Albert stepped in front of Brennan, blocking her escape route from the porch. "Doc, trust me… you need to see this."

"I can't…." Brennan whispered, her voice cracking. "Please-"

"Appearances," Albert said seriously, gently turning her around. "…can be deceiving."

This should have been a useless platitude, a cliché with very little meaning, but for some reason, Brennan let Albert push her forward and through the door of what was apparently Booth's house.

There was a sort of morbid curiosity driving her, but Brennan was shaking when she stepped inside, just in time to see Booth head down the hallway to a room. When he reached the doorway, Booth opened it only slightly, peering in and suddenly a smile lit his face.

The knot of dread in Brennan's chest tightened, but her legs propelled her forward anyway, even as Booth entered the room. She glanced back, once, at Albert, but he remained in the foyer, waving her forward on her own.

Then, Brennan heard a female voice she hadn't expected. Small and excited, someone cried, "Daddy!"

Throat tight, Brennan made it to the doorway and peered in ,observing the scene in front of her.

A tiny girl was sitting up in her bed as Booth approached and knelt down beside her. "Hey, baby," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

The girl was blonde and blue eyed, and couldn't have been more than four years old. Her expression serious, she stared up at Booth. "Santa's coming tonight, Daddy."

"I know," Booth agreed solemnly. "But I think I found something of his in the driveway….it was looking for you."

She gasped, eyes suddenly huge. In an awed whisper, she asked, "What was it?"

Smiling, Booth reached under his coat and extracted a tiny stuff reindeer, causing his daughter to squeal softly as he held it up. "He said he needed a home. Now I _told_ him I knew a little girl who was up for it…"

"I am, I am!" She took the toy and hugged it to her.

"Thank you, Daddy."

"You're welcome, Joy." Grinning, Booth parroted her exact tone back to the little girl.

Brennan stiffened, a jolt hitting her at the girl's name, but before she could think much about it, someone brushed past her into the room.

All Brennan needed was a glimpse of long blonde hair and the cry of "Mommy!" before she was turning away from the bedroom, hurrying blindly down the hallway, tears streaking down her cheeks.

"Hey, hey, hey…." Seeming somewhat startled to see her barreling towards him, Albert hurriedly caught Brennan's wrists, positioning himself directly in front of the door.

"Let me go," Brennan demanded, a catch in her voice. "I don't want to see this, I _can't_, please-"

"It isn't what you think, doc-" Albert hissed urgently. Her face twisting, Brennan started to protest, but Albert suddenly cut her off, his eyes snapping to something in the hallway behind her. "See for yourself."

In spite of herself, Brennan whipped around, just in time to see Booth and his _wife_ closing the door to their daughter's room.

Getting her first good look at the blonde woman, though, Brennan drew a sharp intake of breath, unable to stop herself from gasping, "_Tessa?"_

It was true. Though Brennan had instinctually assumed the blonde had to be Hannah, it was undoubtedly Tessa standing beside Booth.

Glaring at him with a look that could almost be described as hateful.

"…come home _hours_ past her bedtime on _Christmas Eve_ and you _wake her up_ just so you can win her over with toys?" Tessa was hissing at him. "I have spent the past two hours playing Santa and you come in and buy her affection, as always, looking like the good guy?"

Booth glowered back at her. "Always a competition with you," he spat. "Great parenting."

"Where the hell have you been this time, Seeley?"

"I was _working_-"

"Working, oh, I see," Tessa repeated with a smirk. "How much did you lose while you were _working_?"

A muscle in Booth's jaw began to jump, but other than he made no response, simply continued, "-and I stopped by to drop some gifts off for Parker."

They were heading down the hallway now, away from their daughters room, toward Brennan and Albert. "Of course you were. You get lucky for awhile and you think gifts will make everything better."

"It's Christmas," Booth said tersely, rolling his eyes.

Tessa whirled. "Exactly. Yet it doesn't seem to get you home any earlier, does it?"

Their arguments were heated and practiced, the kind of instinctual rhythm that showed the words didn't even hurt anymore, they were so familiar.

Booth's hand went to his pocket suddenly, and he pulled out his phone and stared at it briefly. Without sounding apologetic at all, he stated flatly, "I have to go."

Tessa laughed harshly. "Of course you do."

"I have to work, we've been waiting on a subject." Pulling on his coat, mere inches from Brennan, Booth glared at Tessa. "Just because you've got a judge to conveniently adjourning court at the end of every workday doesn't mean actual crime is like that."

"Fan_tas_tic, Seeley," Tessa bit out. "Feel free to skip Christmas tomorrow as well."

Booth didn't even look back as he shut the door behind him.

Brennan was frozen, her heart throbbing in her ears, but Albert began gently shoving her forward, his tone urgent, "Come on, we need to go with him, hurry…."

Numbly, she allowed herself to be dragged out of the house and through the yard, where she and Albert climbed unnoticed into the back of Booth's SUV just before he sped off.

~(B*B)~

For two minutes, the ride was silent. Booth, in a strangely similar manner to Brennan earlier in the evening, had turned off the radio after a quick scan provided only warm Christmas tunes.

Brennan spent the beginning of the ride staring fixedly at Booth from her place in the backseat, trying to piece together some kind of logic to explain this life he was living.

Finally, though, she broke the silence, addressing Albert without ever sliding her gaze from Booth. "This doesn't make sense."

Albert laughed slightly. "According to you, doc, nothing that's happened tonight has made sense."

Brennan didn't crack a smile. "Even using your logic, I…I don't see the correlation between my lack of existence and…this."

"You know," Albert said thoughtfully. "Angela was right from the beginning. Tessa was threatened by you. And Booth, well…when you two became partners, he started going for drinks with you instead of heading home to his girlfriend. He realized he preferred…_your_ company, to hers."

Shaking her head, Brennan replied, "That doesn't automatically suggest they would have been married without me. It's ridiculous."

"On its own, yes, I quite agree. But there are other circumstances-" Albert stopped talking abruptly as Booth eased the car into a parking lot. "Oh, we're here."

Brennan glanced at the car window, and instantly frowned. They were in the parking lot of a tiny, run down bar…whose sign proclaimed it was closed.

As she and Albert followed Booth out of the car and toward the building, Brennan asked Albert, "Is he here to question a suspect or-"

"No, doc, he's not," Albert answered bluntly. "He lied before, Booth wasn't called about work…."

Uncertain, Brennan grabbed the door and followed Booth inside….where he was instantly greeted by seven or so men, already sitting around a table. One of them was shuffling a deck of cards; the other passed him a beer.

"Merry Christmas, Seel," one of the guys who Booth sat down beside greeted him. "Hope you saved some of your spending money."

Booth smiled, but his eyes were already intense and focused. "Don't worry about me, Matt."

"Feelin' good tonight?" Someone else asked.

"Always."

Someone began to deal cards, while another passed Booth some chips…finally, Brennan made herself look away and stare questioningly at Albert. "This doesn't make sense."

"It's simple really," Albert murmured, his eyes following the game."Without you…he wouldn't have stopped gambling."

Though this fact was undeniable as the scene in front of them played out, Brennan shook her head. "No when….when we met he said he was already working on that…"

"He was," Albert conceded. "Parker was almost three at the time, and Booth was falling behind on child support payments….Rebecca was threatening to limit his time even more than it already was, so Booth was trying to stop. But they call it an addiction for a reason. A little while after that, after the time you would have met him in a different world, he got on a lucky streak and decided it was no longer a problem."

Brennan watched Booth for a moment, her chest aching. She knew he credited her at least partially with getting control of his gambling, but the truth of it had never really hit her.

Now, he was tossing chips in the middle of the table. There was conversation between the men, teasing and laughter, but there was something about Booth's demeanor that suggested utter seriousness.

He seemed harder, somehow, more serious. It was something Brennan vaguely remembered from the beginning of their partnership, but hadn't seen in years.

Until now, Brennan had never considered why.

"That still doesn't explain why he's married to Tessa," she asked finally, ignoring how bitter the words tasted, just hoping to distract herself from Booth.

"Well, as I said, without you, they stayed together longer. Long enough to catch Booth on a bad streak. He was behind on child support, and having trouble coming up with rent money, right at the end of his lease. So Booth asked Tessa if she'd like to live with him…knowing she'd want to keep her place, which was bigger."

Brennan slowly turned to stare at him. "But that's…Booth wouldn't do that, not for those reasons."

"He was desperate," Albert explained simply. "It happens fairly often. So they lived together, and both of them worked a lot so it was never an issue back then. But then Tessa got pregnant, and Booth proposed. Except unlike Rebecca…."

"….Tessa said yes," Brennan finished, her eyes inadvertently flitting to Booth's wedding ring.

"She did." They were silent for a moment, "Neither of them are happy, not that it needs to be said after that little scene back at the house. Tessa cut back on her client load when the baby was born, but obviously Booth couldn't really alter his hours, so he works a lot. And he spends a lot of nights coming here, or a pool hall and, well…."

"What about Parker?" Brennan asked softly.

"Booth's a good father," Albert intoned quietly. "That much hasn't changed. But he sees less of Parker, much less. There's a lot of bitterness between he and Rebecca…lots of years of inconsistent financial help. And she and Tessa don't care much for each other, either, so that doesn't help."

Brennan caught her lower lip between her teeth and turned her attention back to Booth. They watched the game in silence for nearly half an hour.

At one point, then, a round came down to Booth and another guy, whose name seemed to be Drew. The bets grew higher and higher, until Booth was out of chips.

But there was a strange sort of gleam in his eyes, and for a long moment, Booth scrutinized Drew's expression. Brennan recognized it as the look he got when he was staring down a suspect in interrogation. Finally, Booth undid the watch on his wrist and held it up. "This oughta be worth a couple hundred."

Brennan's eyes were huge. "No, that's…that's his grandfather's old watch, he shouldn't…"

Albert, appearing to be wrapped up in the poker game, patted her shoulder distractedly. "Nothing we can do…"

Apparently, the bet had been fixed, because when Brennan returned her attention to the game, Booth was saying. "What have you got?"

A triumphant gleam already in his eyes, Drew splayed his cards across the table. "Royal. Flush."

Though she had no idea what Booth had, Brennan saw the moment his face tightened in disbelief. She saw anger flash through his eyes as he flung his cards away without revealing how badly he'd been beaten.

And she saw the moment of realization, the descending panic as Booth's eyes snapped fixedly to his watch, oblivious to the whoops and cheers around him. He stared, looking vaguely sick but saying nothing, as the other man slowly pulled the watch toward him.

Brennan's voice was shaking in anger, "That man's just going to _keep_ it?"

"He won it fair and square," Albert reminded her.

"But Booth should explain, it's important to him-"

"He won't do that."

She started to push the argument, as though she had any influence on the events playing out in front of her, but suddenly Booth's phone vibrated and his devastated expression changed.

"I've gotta go, guys, that's work…"

"Ah, don't be a sore loser, Seel, no need to run off-"

His tone uncharacteristically biting, Booth replied, "Yeah, I definitely arranged for a suspect to return right at this second, on the _off chance_ that I started to lose."

"Pretty good chance lately," someone else ribbed him, but Booth ignored him, addressing someone else.

"I need to settle."

Brennan looked away as Booth got out his wallet and checkbook, not wanting to see how much he was losing. To Albert, she said, "Is he lying again? Because he wants to leave?"

"Not a lie this time, sadly."

"On Christmas Eve?"

Albert shrugged, "There's a guy who's a prime suspect in his wife's disappearance a few months ago…he's been MIA since her body showed up last week. That text let Booth know a neighbor reported the guy's car pulling up to his house….and they want him to hurry in case he's stopping by now to get some things, thinking the surveillance won't be high on a holiday."

Brennan nodded; that all seemed logical. As Booth headed out of the bar, Albert followed, indicating that Brennan should follow.

"We're, um, going with him? Still?" She was hoping that this, the bar and the proof of Booth's continued gambling problem, had been the end of it.

Albert merely nodded as they once again hopped in the back of Booth's car.

Brennan had the sudden thought of how strange it was to be in the backseat, rather than her usual place in the passenger seat, but she pushed it aside. After all, that was nothing compared to the strangeness of being in the car without Booth seeing or acknowledging her.

Instead, she turned her attention to attempting to discern the benefit of following Booth to a suspect's home. Finally, she asked, "Is this so I can see Booth partnered with someone else?"

"Booth doesn't have another partner," Albert answered. "They tried him with several, but it just never clicked, so they didn't work out."

"Oh." At that, Brennan fell silent, keeping her eyes on her partner as they drove.

Soon, they were pulling up the curb of a house, and Booth, with Albert and Brennan following, walked through the yard to the house next door.

Brennan hurried to keep up with him; there was a flash of movement, and Booth glanced at it as he reached the front door.

For a moment, the scene was familiar to Brennan. Booth pounding on the door, announcing himself as FBI. No response. Booth pounded again, and seemed on the verge of forcing his way in, the door swung open and a tall man with sandy hair opened the door.

"Agent Booth," the guy said, a note of false welcome in his tone. "Come on in."

"Don't mind if I do, Kurt," Booth said flatly, his eyes flashing. He followed the man into the living room, and Brennan and Albert went unnoticed behind him.

Kurt, seemingly unbothered, picked up one of the two beers sitting on the coffee table and took a sip. In spite of his apparently relaxed demeanor, the man didn't sit down. "Assuming this isn't a social call, how'd you get the bad luck to work Christmas Eve?"

Booth didn't crack a smile. "Can't control when you chose to show your face again, Kurt. You can see how it would seem a bit odd to me, that you'd take off the minute your wife's body was found."

The man looked at him, eyes wide and innocent. "I'd planned for weeks to go see my mother for the week. Christmas, you know. Should be with family."

"That's very interesting, because coming home Christmas Eve doesn't really give me a strong sense of your commitment to family holidays."

Sighing, Kurt shook his head. "Wasn't feeling up to the whole Christmas thing. First Christmas without Jen…it's tough." He waved a hand mournfully around his apartment. "As you can see I haven't even decorated."

Booth snorted, unmoved. He pulled out his handcuffs "That works out well, then…you won't mind giving up…." For a second, Booth paused, glancing around. Brennan, too, had heard something, seeming to come from somewhere else in the house. Booth, though, seemed to decide it was nothing, as he kept going. "You won't mind giving up your Christmas Eve to come down to the station with me and answer some questions."

Her gaze fell on the beer bottle Kurt hadn't picked up, still sitting on the coffee table, and Brennan realized it was nearly full. She turned suddenly, expression alarmed. "Someone else is here."

It wasn't a question, but Albert nodded anyway.

Meanwhile, a strange smile twisted on Kurt's face, and for the first time he sat down on the couch. "We can talk here, Agent Booth."

"I'd prefer we didn't," Booth snarled, stepping towards him. "You don't wanna make this difficult…"

In a quick motion, Kurt reached behind the couch cushion and whipped out a gun, which he trained instantly on Booth. Booth, too, was quick, aiming his own weapon at the man.

"Drop the weapon," Booth gritted out.

Terror was coursing through Brennan's veins, and she turned instinctually to see, as she'd suspected, a second man creeping around the corner, behind Booth, pulling out his own gun.

"Booth!" She yelled without thinking, his name tearing from her throat. She turned to Albert. "You have to do something, you have to warn him-"

Before Albert could refuse, a gunshot cut through the silence, from the second man.

Brennan whipped around in time to see Booth's leg buckle, but he stayed standing, spinning out of instinct and firing a shot at the newcomer….

Just as Kurt opened fire on Booth's turned back.

The scream seemed to come from all around them , strangled and animalistic, pain stripped through the sound.

Only when it cracked, falling to pieces as her breath rushed out of her, did Brennan realize it came from her.

Albert had his arms hooked around her from behind, and Brennan was fighting him, trembling all over. "Let me go, let me go…."

The men were bent over Booth's body. They flipped him over and checked for a pulse. His face was ashen, his eyes open and unseeing.

The men were talking, words that seemed to be coming through a fog, miles away.

"We better hurry, he may have back up coming…"

"Do we leave him here?"

"May as well, we can't come back no matter what-"

"And we don't have time to get the blood up…"

Just like that, they left the room, and Brennan succeeded in pulling free of Albert's grip. She ran forward, her legs going boneless beneath her as she dropped beside Booth.

His eyes, those warm, chocolate eyes she knew so well, were glassy, drained of life. Brennan's heart felt like it was swelling in her chest…surely it would burst at any moment, surely that's what this pain was…

"Booth? Booth… _Booth_!" His name tumbled from her lips, her fingers brushing his hair. "Booth, wake up, you can….don't do this, please, don't…"

The bulk of the blood seemed to be pooling beneath his head and Brennan yanked off her coat, gently lifting Booth's head so she could tuck it under him, pressing it against the wood, still murmuring, "Please, Booth, you can make it, you're okay…." Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she only noticed she was crying when her vision of Booth began to swim in front of her.

Albert knelt beside her suddenly, and Brennan glanced at him and screamed, a note of hysteria inching its way into her voice, "_Do_ something!"

"I can't."

"You _have_ to!" Brennan yelled. "I don't even believe in you, in angels, _he_ does! _Help him_, please, just forget about me, you have…you have to…"

"I can't," Albert repeated, his voice heavy. "You see? He needed you. He needed a partner…"

"Shut up."

"You've saved his life so many times. You always protect each other…"

"Shut _up_!" Brennan lifted a hand from Booth and shoved Albert away from her. "Stop talking and _do_ something!"

"I ca-"

"You _can_, you _can_, you've done everything that defies logic and science tonight…you can fix him, you have to, Booth can't…." Her voice faltered. "He, he can date Hannah, or Tessa, I don't care, I don't _care_, but you _can't let him die!"_

Her voice collapsed in on itself, violent sobs ripping through her. Beneath her palm, Booth's heart was still.

Brennan pressed her face against Booth's chest, her whole body shuddering as she cried. Her hands, red with his blood, clung to Booth, fisting the material of his shirt.

She knelt there, crying, for several long minutes when she felt Booth being dragged away from her.

Blinking back tears, Brennan looked up. The men were back, dragging Booth's body away.

Panicked, she tightened her grip, pulling ineffectually away. "No! No, no…" Finally, though, they pulled him away from her completely, and Brennan was left kneeling alone, her hands suddenly empty, as Booth disappeared from view. "No, no, no…." The final 'no' turned into a long, keening note , pulsing with grief and pain.

Standing now, Albert put a hand on Brennan's shoulder, his tone sympathetic. "Doc…"

She ignored him, scrambling shakily to her feet and following them to the basement door, which slammed in her face as he they dragged Booth downstairs. Brennan turned the knob and found that, unlike every other door she and Albert had encountered that day, it was locked.

"Booth!" She screamed, despite knowing that he couldn't hear her, couldn't have heard her even if he was alive. Brennan beat her fists against the wood of the door, voice raw as she yelled uselessly for him, _"BOOTH!"_

Albert griped her arm gently. "Let him go, doc." He pulled her forward, and Brennan turned, intending to tell him to get away from her, only to find herself once again, inexplicably, in the middle of the street.

Brennan whipped around, staring in every direction. "We have to go back, we have to…we have to help him…"

"We can't save him," Albert told her quietly. "It's too late."

Tears were still rolling steadily down her cheeks, and Brennan stared in horror down at her blood stained hands.

A small whimper escaped her, and Brennan's legs gave out beneath her. She knelt in the middle of the street, slamming her hand against the rough asphalt. Screams built up in her chest, tearing her throat, but no sound came out…Brennan didn't even think she could breathe.

"You see it now, don't you?" Albert voice penetrated the fog surrounding her, low and solemn. "How important you are to your friends, your family. How much impact you've had, how much better they are for knowing you…every single one of them was worse off in the world where you don't exist."

"If I don't exist," Brennan choked out. "I shouldn't _feel_ this."

For a long moment, Albert just looked her, her bowed head, trembling body, crimson streaked hands. Then, he said softly, "You may have a point there, doc. But what you're feeling now…it's because you care about them. And they care about you…they _need _you."

Brennan didn't answer.

"You mean so much to them, doc. I know that…sometimes it doesn't seem like it. Sometimes you can forget, and so can they, everything you've done for them." He touched her chin, making her look at him.

Rubbing the shoulder of her shirt against her wet face, Brennan slowly looked up to meet his eyes.

"Please," she begged, her voice ragged and pleading. "Please just…I don't want this anymore, I want….Angela and Hodgins and Cam and Michelle and Sweets and my dad and Russ…and, and especially Booth," Her voice splintered. "Just…let them be okay. I don't care if I'm alone, just _fix them_."

"You still don't understand, do you?" Albert asked, but his voice was gentle. "Temperance, think of everything you _saw_ tonight! You aren't alone. Someone who has done _so_ _much_ for her friends lives…no way they aren't there for you the second they know you need it." He paused, making sure she was paying attention. "And as for Booth…may I counsel patience? You've given him more than anyone else in his life, doc. That means something."

Brennan's throat narrowed,, and very slowly she nodded. "So you can…you can bring him back?"

A smile lighting his face, Albert took her hand and squeezed it once. "Of course. All I have to do is bring _you_ back."

_A/N: Phew. okay. One more chapter to go, guys_. _My plan is to have it up tomorrow, earlier than it was today. A Christmas Eve conclusion. Please do let me know what you think, because I've been really looking forward to this chapter, and can't wait to hear if you guys liked it. Thanks for reading, tune in for the finale tomorrow._


	6. Let Your Heart Be Light

_A/N:_ _Last chapter time! Thanks so much to everyone who's read this fic this week…I've loved writing it. Sorry it was a few hours later than I intended tonight….things are always busy, and I'm already getting looks from my family for typing during our Christmas Eve gathering. Without further ado, the conclusion to our Christmas tale._

Chapter Six

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas,  
let your heart be light…_

Brennan's eyes snapped open.

They met with an unfamiliar ceiling; she was lying on a bed, a soft, rhythmic beeping her ears. Her whole body was sore, particularly her side.

For a moment, she lay still, panicked: this transition was more jarring than any Albert had brought about all night.

Then, she heard shuffling next to her, and slowly, with difficulty, Brennan turned her head.

Her throat constricted instantly; her heart seemed suddenly too large for her chest as a powerful surge of relief seeped through her.

"Booth," she gasped out, her voice breaking on just his name.

He was sitting in a chair, pulled close to her bed. His elbows were resting on his knees, and his head was bent low.

And when he heard her voice, his head snapped up, his chocolate eyes, wide and red and terrified, landed on her.

He could see her.

"Bones," Booth breathed, and in the next instant his arms were around her, crushing her against him.

Brennan could feel Booth's heart thudding against her, and instantly her eyes welled with tears. She didn't know exactly what was happening, but Booth was alive, and he was holding her in a way he hadn't in so long….

"You're okay," she whispered against this neck.

"Yeah, Bones," his voice fell over her, tinged with confusion but mostly pure relief. "More importantly, _you're_ gonna be okay." Suddenly he let go of her, drawing back, eyes huge. "God, I'm probably hurting you."

"No," Brennan told him, her voice weak. "I, just…what's happening?"

The slightest bit of fear returned to Booth's eyes, but he took her hand gently in his, his voice soothing, "You were in a car accident, Bones."

She blinked at him, uncertain. "I…I know, but I wasn't…I wasn't hurt, except…" Dazedly, she reached up and touched her cheek, feeling the neat row of stitches where she'd cut her face.

"Someone drove by and saw your car early this morning…you'd been unconscious for awhile." Booth closed his eyes briefly, his voice catching, "I was so scared, Bones."

"This morning," Brennan repeated. "What…what day is it?"

At that, Booth smiled tiredly. "It's Christmas Eve, Bones." He glanced at his watch, and Brennan felt another rush of relief to see it back where it was supposed to be. "For a few more hours, at least." His eyes snapped back to hers, full of poorly disguised worry. "They brought you in this morning and did surgery…but it took you awhile to wake up."

"But…I thought you and Parker were supposed to be with Hannah at her parents…"

Booth laughed a little, almost incredulously. "Bones…." He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes and lightly tracing down her cheek; Brennan shivered. "I told her to go without us. This is more important." He drew a shaky breath, eyes suddenly bright. "God, Bones, when Angela called me, I swear to God I couldn't breathe for a second…"

Brennan's chest was aching again, but she couldn't stop herself from smiling. Then, she looked up at Booth, searchingly, "Wait, Ange…Angela's here?"

Again, Booth looked surprised by the question. "Of course she is, Bones. Actually…" He stood up, squeezing her hand gently before letting go. "They're all going to kill me if I keep them waiting any longer. Hold on…"

He left the room, and Brennan bit back the irrational panic at his absence. Brennan leaned back on her pillows, dizzy and lightheaded from the sudden, jolting change in her reality.

Less than a minute later, however, Brennan's door opened again, and she heard only a high and shaky, "_Sweetie_!" before Angela was flying at her and hugging her tearfully. "Oh, thank God…"

Brennan hugged her best friend back, just as hard, when her gaze found the person standing behind Angela. Her eyes lit up, "Hodgins!"

Hodgins' eyebrows shot up, surprised, but he was grinning at her. "Dr. B! How you feeling?"

She started to answer, but as Angela slowly released her hold, Brennan saw the others spilling into the room.

Cam and Michelle. Sweets and Daisy. And behind them all, Booth, who wasted no time pushing past the others to reclaim his place next to Brennan.

They surrounded her bed, all talking over each other, asking how she felt or that they were glad she was okay. Brennan could only stare at them, her throat too tight to speak.

After a moment, she felt Booth's fingers slip through her own. "You okay, Bones?" he asked in an undertone.

She nodded hard, swallowing away the lump in her throat and letting her eyes sweep all of them.. Angela and Hodgins, who'd had a flight to Texas, Cam and Michelle, who had plans for New York, Sweets and Daisy and their cabin...

She thought, suddenly, of what Albert had said.

_Someone who has done so much for her friends lives…no way they aren't there for you the second they know you need it._

Of course, none of that had been real.

Except…

There was logic to all of it. The scenarios she'd seen, they all made sense under the premise. And it was strange, the detail of her dream, how clearly she could recall every detail, every painful moment.

Angela took the seat on Brennan's other side, and she told her, "Your dad and brother are on their way, Bren." She dropped her tone, her brown eyes warm with concern. "Why didn't you tell me you weren't going to Russ'?"

Brennan felt the heat rising to her cheeks, and she dropped her eyes, scrambling for an explanation.

Then, to her surprise, Angela continued, "You could have come with Jack and me to Texas."

Taken aback, Brennan began to shake her head. "Oh, no, Ange, it…it was a family thing."

Sighing, Angela rolled her eyes. "_You_ are family, Sweetie." She touched her stomach and smiled. "And when this one comes, we'll make it official. Godmother's _very_ important."

A pang hit Brennan somewhere in the chest, and she caught her lip between her teeth, vision blurring for probably the tenth time since she woke up. "Thank you." Finally, she slid her eyes away, looking at each one of her friends before finally saying softly, "It's almost Christmas…and I know you all had plans-"

"No one's going anywhere, Sweetie," Angela interrupted impatiently.

Hodgins nodded, smiling down at her. "You think we can't have Christmas in a hospital?"

Sweets' eyes lit up. "We have a mini Christmas tree we were going to take the cabin…"

Cam and Michelle glanced at each other, and then Cam put in, "We have plenty of food we were taking."

"Lancelot, you can bring some of your antlers for everyone!" Daisy said excitedly.

Michelle offered, "I could bring in some Christmas DVDs…"

They were off, throwing out plans for food and decorations and things they could do for tomorrow.

Amid the chatter, Brennan turned and met Booth's eyes. He smiled at her, all traces of exhaustion disappearing as he did. He mouthed at her, "Merry Christmas."

She whispered it back.

~(B*B)~

They all left a little after midnight, wishes of Merry Christmas and promises to return in the morning flying between them.

Booth, though, refused to leave. He slept in the chair, his arms folded on her bed, cushioning his head.

It took Brennan awhile to get to sleep, afraid she would close her eyes and return to the place where Booth was being shot, dragged away from her and she fought ineffectually to save him.

But she slept eventually, the pain medication doing its job. When she woke up, her friends were milling around the room quietly, finding places to hide plates from doctors and stringing Christmas lights around the tiny windows.

They all came back, and now joined by Max and Russ, who brought with him Get Well Soon cards from Emma and Hayley. They'd crowded more chairs than seemed possible into the small hospital room, and all day everyone was in and out, bringing food and gifts and occasionally Christmas movies to watch on the television.

Booth was glued to her side for most of the day. There was an ease to their conversation that hadn't been present for a month, and Brennan was terrified to say the wrong thing for fear it would disappear again.

But it never did, and at one point when his phone rang in the middle of a conversation, Booth glanced at it and barely hesitated before putting it back in his pocket and smiling at Brennan, continuing without missing a beat.

He left only once, in the afternoon, and though she tried not to show it, Booth must have seen the disappointment etched in her expression, because he smiled and told her, "I promised Parker I'd come get him and bring him to see you. He was with me, when Ange called, and he was really worried about you."

So less than an hour later, Brennan was in her room, opening gifts from Angela and Hodgins and her father, when Parker came barreling in, frenzied with the excitement of Christmas. "_Bones_!"

He pulled up short next to her bed ad climbed up to sit on the end of it, his brown eyes going wide as he looked at all the machines around her. "Are you really _okay_, Bones?"

Smiling, she nodded. "I'm fine, Parker. What'd you get for Christmas this morning?"

As she listened to Parker list in great detail his presents from Santa, Brennan was vaguely aware of Booth, speaking softly to Angela, Hodgins and Max. He indicated a gift under his arm, and the three of them nodded and slowly trickled out of the room.

Parker continued to talk as Booth sat down in the chair vacated by Angela, his eyes sparkling as they met Brennan's. He winked.

Suddenly, the boy stopped talking abruptly, his eyes darting to his father and then back to Bones. He grinned. "Daddy's got a gift for you, Bones!"

"He does?" Brennan glanced at him, genuinely surprised.

Booth leaned close, lifting the present, a tender smile tugging at his lips. "I meant to give it to you before I left but…it wasn't quite done."

At that, Brennan looked at him questioningly. "Done?"

Booth actually flushed slightly. "Yeah, I…I hope you don't think this is too weird or…or stupid."

He was so uncharacteristically flustered and nervous, that Brennan couldn't help but smile. "I have you something, too, it's…it's in my desk at work, maybe Angela or someone could-"

"It doesn't matter," Booth interrupted gently. "But…I want you to have this."

Her fingers were trembling slightly as Brennan pulled off the bow and ribbon, then slowly began tearing away the green and red striped wrapping paper.

As it fell away, she looked up at Booth, a question in her eyes. He smiled, though she could see the nervousness in his expression. Brennan opened the thick, leather book….and gasped softly. "Oh…"

Her chest tightening, Brennan began to flip through the pages of the book. Photos filled the pages, obviously painstakingly collected and put together.

There were photos of the team, at various events or Christmas parties over the years. There were articles about them, of Booth and Brennan or occasionally the team as a whole. There were photos of Brennan and Parker, taken at the pool the summer before they left. Photos of just Booth and Brennan.

And there were others, photos that Booth wouldn't have had himself. Of her family, recent and from years ago, or photos of her and Angela, some from even before she and Booth were partnered together.

She could feel the hot prickling of tears in her eyes, and Brennan met Booth's gaze. He stared back, expectant and anxious.

For a long moment, she didn't say anything. Then, her voice barely audible, she asked, "You did this?"

She almost couldn't imagine it. The past month, when they'd been so awkward and distant with each other, Booth was working on this?

"I…I started working on it after the Lauren Eames case," he admitted softly. "I know it's a bit…I don't know, Bones, I just saw what you were thinking that whole case. That you were alone, that you didn't have anyone. I just thought…this would be a good way to remind you that you're wrong."

She felt a tear roll down her cheek, betraying her, and Booth reached out and brushed it away without breaking eye contact.

He'd given her what Albert had tried to give her…only this wasn't a dream. He'd given her proof that she wasn't alone, that people cared about her.

Especially him.

"Do you like it?" Booth asked, almost uncertain.

In answer, Brennan wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face briefly into his shoulder under the tears subsided. "Thank you."

He nodded hard, his own voice rough when he answered, "Merry Christmas, Bones."

She drew back slowly, wiping her eyes, when Parker's voice interrupted the moment. "Can I see?"

"Of course," she managed, passing him the photo album.

As Parker thumbed quickly through the photo album, Booth touched Brennan under the chin, turning her face so she had to look at him.

"Bones, listen…when I got here, and you were in surgery…no one was saying that you were going to be just fine, we didn't know…." His voice broke, and Booth drew a steadying breath. "And all I could think about was…I don't remember that last time you and I went to the diner for pie. Or had a drink after work, or ordered takeout or even…or even had a real conversation." His face contorted. "Bones, I hate that. I miss you, and I know it's my fault and I…I want to change it. Okay?"

Brennan looked into her eyes, those eyes she knew so well, the slightest twinge of pain hitting her chest as she reminded herself that nothing he was saying was anything more than friendship. None of it meant he wasn't still with Hannah.

_May I counsel patience?_

The words floated back to her, Albert's words, and suddenly Brennan felt like a weight was lifted, the slightest bit of hope sparking in her chest.

She had her best friend back. And that would be enough for now...she could wait.

Brennan smiled, and Booth smiled back, relieved. For a long moment, they stared at each other inanely, when the sudden tinkling of bells cut through the silence.

Both of the turned to look at Parker, who was holding the bow that had been on top of her gift. There were tiny gold bells hooked on its end, and Parker was shaking it in his hands. "Hey, Bones, you know what?" he said. "When we do Polar Express day at school, that book said if you hear a bell ring, it means you still believe in Santa Clause. Did you know that?"

"Actually…" Brennan cut her eyes at Booth, who met hers with an expression half of amusement, half warning. Then, she smiled at Parker and gently took the bow from Parker's hand, turning one of the bells over in her fingers. "Actually, I once heard that every time a bell wings, an angel gets its wings."

"Whoa. That's way cooler. Isn't it, Dad?"

Booth was watching Brennan, surprise evident on his face. "Yeah, it is."

"I love my gift, Booth," Brennan said softly, her fingers tracing a photo in the book, one of the two of them Angela had taken at Booth's birthday a few years ago, at Founding Fathers.

He hugged her at that, his voice right next to her ear as he murmured, "Merry Christmas, Bones."

_A/N: So there you have it. Hope it was a satisfying conclusion, and that you enjoyed the little bit of hope we left with in spite of certain blonde complications that still exist. Thanks to everyone who's read, and please do let me know what you think of this final chapter. Have a Merry Christmas, or whatever you celebrate! And for those of you reading All That You Can't Leave Behind, expect an update at the beginning of next week. Merry Christmas! _


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